Last Chance
The First Line: Line of Tobias
Hotshot
" Such amazing fiction, these stories they tell. It always comes to this. If they really had a desire to live they would've been more aware of how easy it is to die, would've been chosen their actions more wisely. In these moments you can tell they're not regretting having hurt you. They regret doing it to your face." ~Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
He walked through the dark city, dark, but not quiet, never quiet. It was late and well past the curfew of any his age. He took the alleyways of the great city without fear, for no one would mess with him. Those who did quickly found themselves in painful, and often deadly situations. He would merely walk right past the city's drug lords and crooked cops, and cut through the city's loudest clubs, the ones that almost undoubtedly should not have let him in.
He stepped to the end of an alley and stopped. He stared out over the city. There were so many cars and lights even at this time of night. He gazed out at them for a moment remembering the times where it had been only streetlamps and a few rare drunks wandering the street at this hour. Ah, and the streets had been so different then, and the buildings so much smaller. He grinned as a car horn honked loudly in the distance; this time was much more fun. Back then he had been respected, but today, today he was feared.
He took the corner and began walking along the nearly empty sidewalk. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and looked around, aiming to go nowhere in particular for the time being. Trouble would find him eventually.
And it did. He was about a block and a half from where he'd started when someone suddenly grabbed his arm, pulling it out of his pocket. He turned only to glare at an older woman that had firm hold on his arm and looked to be worried.
"Ah, dearie, what are you doing out this late? You ought to be home asleep. Here, let me call you a cab," She put a hand up to hail the nearest one.
He pulled his arm roughly out of her grip, "I'm fine."
"You really shouldn't be out here by yourself at this time of night; you're far too young."
"Shove off, lady," He snarled rudely before stalking off. A few paces away he looked into a glass storefront and saw the disrupted reflection of her looking at him in the utmost horror before turning and stalking away. He was farther away when he started to laugh. That woman thinking he was so young and innocent; it was the hardest he'd laughed in a while.
It took a while but the club slowly came into view. It was one of the several that were open at this hour, and the one that Spot knew the best. He could hear the music half a block away and walked past it. Most left out the back door anyway.
He was lucky; one of the girls was slipping out into the alley just as he rounded the buildings corner. He smirked, knowing her only by reputation. Her name was Katie, or Katherine, or something like that. Supposedly she was easy.
She saw him before he said anything and greeted him with a flirtatious smile. "Hey, how are you?" She asked as though she knew him.
"Pretty good," he said, "The music good tonight?"
"Perfect." She caught his eye and he grinned. It was enough.
"You want to go for a walk?"
"Sure, why not."
She walked with him farther down the street and through an alley that eventually found them behind an old condemned building. An even older couch sat against the fence. Spot had always guessed that the family put it out for the epilepsy foundation, or some other to take.
He sat at one end and she sat down next to him. He met her eyes and they sat for less than a moment in silence. He kissed her, quickly making his way from her lips to her neck. He was soon undoing her shirt in a particularly well-practiced motion. Her hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.
Even after they had finished he continued to kiss her neck.
"You can stop now," she insisted laughing.
He sat up over her and grinned maliciously, exposing two sharp, and longer than normal, canine teeth.
It threw her out of the trance she'd been in quickly and she opened her mouth to scream. She'd barely made a sound when his hand flew to her throat, cutting off her windpipe. He lowered his lips to her neck and kissed it twice before digging his teeth into the veins of her neck.
After finishing his meal he stood and went about finding his clothes and getting dressed. He walked out or the alley and back toward 'home' with an air of calm about him. He grinned to himself thinking of the headline when they found the body; Nude Corpse Found in Alley. Not that it was unusual. Nor was the screwing before he killed them. His philosophy was that it was their last night alive so they might as well have some pleasure in it.
He moved back across much faster than he had crossed it the first time. He was in no hurry to get back but his feet carried him on this path faster than any other. It was probably partly to do with before he'd died; all those nights he's run through the alleyways and back toward home to escape the police. Though so many years had passed he still felt the paranoia he'd grown accustomed to.
He entered the club that was pounding with music. It's interior was dark, only the bright lights from the ceiling illuminated it. He pushed through the crowd to the bar, reaching over himself to grab something. A hand took firm hold of his wrist and pushed it away.
"I don't think so."
He growled at the older woman as she glared back before moving down the bar to help another paying customer. As soon as she was out of sight he reached back into the bar and pulled out a bottle of dark liquid. He ripped off the cap and put it to his lips. Cold, it was good.
He heard them yelling across the club and looked back to find several of his friends back from what he guessed had been a successful hunt. They joined the masses of people that shook the clubs dance floor as the band began to pound out another, loud song. He felt like he was drowning in the music as always as he watched them. "Idiots," he mumbled.
"So, Spottie boy, how was your night?" Another voice next to him inquired.
Any other person might have jumped at the body that seemed to suddenly appear on the barstool next to him. He was used to it. He tried to shove the short Italian off of his barstool.
"Good." He replied. They both turned to face the bar again, and he drained the rest of his drink.
"That's good, Isadora, what is it?" He asked.
The bartender snatched the bottle from him, her dark eyes burning. "I thought I told you that you couldn't have any. I swear Spot, you don't start listening to me-"
"What, so I can be a bartender here but not drink?"
"Exactly," she cracked a wry smile.
"What was it?"
"Merlot. It's the good stuff so leave it alone." She put two bottles on the counter in front of them, "Stick to the beer and the blood."
The rest of the horde came stumbling over through the chaos of the floor. Spot knew them all, many from the days when they'd actually been living and others just from since then. He'd been responsible for the turning of a few.
"Long night, boys." He smirked.
Pickpocket shrugged, "New place across town is pretty good. Found a few and shared 'em. What about you?"
"Get laid?"
He turned his chair around to face a pair of hazel eyes two chairs down. She was glaring at him.
"Always." He returned her glare with a smirk, "You forget, the girls are just crazy about me."
"Cocky shit."
"But don't worry; you'll always be my favorite. Not that many girls are attracted to me and live that long."
"Oh Ceja, not again," Racetrack hissed.
"The first date was a dare, Conlon," She spat, never averting her eyes from his, "The second was out of pity."
He stood up and leaned close to her face, "Pity dates don't usually include sex, sweetie."
"Bite me."
"If you insist," he shrugged and leaned forward but someone grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back.
Thaddeous, one of the adult vampires in their line stood behind him looking down at them with a rare frown. "I don't want to deal with one of the spats between the lot of you tonight. Get out of here before you get yourselves into even deeper trouble."
"Tobias here?" Spot knew the answer before he asked it. Thaddeous never complained about their arguing unless something was going on.
"Yes," Thad replied, "and he thinks that after two hundred years you'd be able to control your temper a little better. So all of you get up to the rooms now."
Several of the young boys turned to Isadora, hoping to get some support but she only nodded her head in the general direction of the stairs and began taking their drinks off of the counter. Mush managed to grab his and escaped up the stairs with the rest or them.
The first thing each of them did upon reaching the upper levels was go to their rooms and change. They often broke out nicer clothes for hunting; they did have to represent their line after all. Also, it was after hours, and Tobias wouldn't be pleased to find them all still wandering. They were confined to the upstairs space so they made themselves more comfortable.
Each could hear the club steadily emptying and growing quieter beneath them. They met up in the largest of the suites, as was customary. Until recently it had been occupied by the oldest of them all but he'd slipped up. He lay in a vial atop the mantle downstairs, reduced to ashes. He was gone, but that didn't stop them from invading his room.
Nympho stretched out on the bed, a girl on either arm. Victoria and Finesse, two of the other girls. It was a comfortable embrace that wasn't unusual for him. Maybe he'd sleep with one of them, maybe he wouldn't.
Loki sat at the head of the bed. He had been her maker. To make it simple the girl was older than any of them. He'd been her maker way back when and supposedly her lover. Her near-black hair hung down her back over her even darker clothes. Two large brown eyes peered out of the tan, elfin-featured face. They never rested on one person too long; neither did her body remain in one place. She fidgeted.
Becks and Grock were reclining against the side of the bed, perfectly comfortable on the floor. Alongside them sat Mush, Snipeshooter and Pickpocket. Those known as Pie Eater and Bumlets occupied a futon propped up in the corner. Ceja, Spot, and Racetrack reclining in three of the chairs that littered the room.
They were all quiet for a moment as they settled themselves. The only sound to be heard was Mush's loud swallowing of whatever alcoholic beverage he had managed to sneak upstairs.
Racetrack kneeled on his seat, facing the wall, carefully adjusting the knobs on a speaker box. Turning one volume knob up and another down he ensured they would not be heard. "Let's just hope the speaker downstairs is turned on.
Now, it's not that they had no respect for their elders, of course they did, but why should they have been left out of everything. Several of them had been around longer than some of the 'adults' and they still weren't privy to this kind of information. It was a bullshit system if you asked any of them.
The jumble of speaking emitting from the wall eventually decreased. Any that still lasted came to an abrupt end.
Tobias was there.
Click. Click. Click.
It was so quiet that you could hear each tap of his shoes as he circled the table. It was how he stalked prey, and made many of them shiver. The clicking stopped abruptly and something was mumbled.
"Race, turn it up," Nymph urged, "I want to hear it."
The short vampire turned again and fidgeted with the knobs.
"Are you sure the club is completely empty?" Tobias' silky smooth voice filled the room.
"Closed half an hour ago," Isadora said abruptly. She paused, "I checked all the rooms twice. Bar closed an hour ago."
"And they're all upstairs?"
"Yeah," Thaddeous confirmed, "Now what's going on."
"There's been a disruption lately, you could say."
Click.
He took a step.
"Something happened with the other lines."
Click. Click.
"So…"
Click. Click. Click.
The footsteps seemed to be getting closer.
"So, it's probably not something we can fix."
Click.
An ear-splitting beep pierced the room. Most of them jumped to cover their ears and avoid the dreadful noise. In Racetrack's haste to cover his ears he sent the chair tipping far off balance, which in turn sent both him and his seat tumbling to the ground.
"Mother fuc-"
"Excuse me," The deep, silky smooth voice came form the doorway, "What was that?"
Racetrack jumped to his feet and met Tobias' eyes, "Nothing."
"I hope not," His eyes roamed over them.
Tobias was very much an attractive man. He had been perhaps in his mid to late twenties when he died. Despite the pale complexion that was rumored to be worn by all vampires Tobias' skin was nearly always tanned. Dark hair, kept short and neatly combed, and blue eyes that stared straight past your soul, were what most noticed about him. His grin was usually one that could make you fear him. The frown, as he was wearing now, had a more gripping effect.
He was tall, very tall. In fact he towered over most of the teens, a lean 6'3". His features were all strong, and muscles carefully sculpted. He looked weak, but it was very much so a conflicting look, he'd killed men with his bare hands. Few of them had actually seen it, but none doubted it. More importantly he was fast.
"Honestly, I wonder what all of you are still doing in here. He did die more than a month ago." He crossed the room in to quick steps. The box was ripped off the wall and lay broken in half on the floor. "When I say you are not to be in the room you are not to be in the room, even if it is just your ears. It means you are to have no part and no say in the conversation. You know what I want you to know, and that is it." He glared at their certain ringleader as he spoke but made sure each and every one of them could feel the anger radiating off of him.
"Now, off to bed with all of you." He turned on his heel and strode out the door. Seconds later the door downstairs made them all start as it banged shut.
"Bitch," Grock muttered.
A few of them managed a small laugh.
Spot kicked at the crumpled plastic and wires on the ground as Racetrack straightened the chair he'd fallen from.
"Can you fix it?"
He shrugged, "Probably, unless Tobias ripped out the one downstairs-"
"In which case we're screwed, but hey, what else is new." Bumlets put in.
"Basically what he said," Racetrack continued. He rescued the plastic cover from the abuse of Spot's shoeless feet and stumbled out of the room. A few others followed suit.
Then there were a few who were just being idiots. Snipeshooter for one was trying to listen through the heating ducts. It was one of the faults of being a vampire, most didn't mature if they were trapped in such a young state, the boy being an obvious example.
Pie Eater seized the opportunity to kick the young boy over, "Get to bed, Squirt."
With that the rest of them dispersed as well, Loki closing the door behind her and flipping off the lights.
They all returned to their rooms and fell quiet, hoping perhaps, to catch some of what was going on downstairs. Nothing but the muted, and muffles conversation from downstairs could be heard, and none of it was clear enough to actually hear.
A/N: Finally, a chapter! I know, it's amazing and it probably won't happen unless I suddenly get a huge expanse of free time, something that's very not likely to happy.
So, yeah, there are two more lines, and therefore two more chapters to introduce them and the fun characters I got. They'll all be shoved in a disclaimer somewhere in the third chapter. I don't know if I'm going to keep the chapters like this, in threes, or chop them up more. We'll see though. And as for the characters that weren't really introduced here, later, I promise.
I lurve shade, kez, morning dew, and falco for reviewing. Thanks.
Alright, I need to go work on my mirage applications now, hope you enjoyed and leave me a review at the beep (also known as that little purple button down there).
~Hotshot~~~